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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26641723">only a few ever worried</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadioFreeHayden/pseuds/RadioFreeHayden'>RadioFreeHayden</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dungeons and Daddies (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>"TJ and Nick argue outside Walter's house at night" is the only type of fic I write apparently, Angst, Gen, but Anthony's not my real dad and canon has no power here, feat. TJ yelling, it's a very specific brand, it's just a vent fic that's literally all it is I'm just mad and projecting, takes place ambiguously sometime post episode 34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:55:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,096</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26641723</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadioFreeHayden/pseuds/RadioFreeHayden</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“Nick deserves so much better than you.” No one ever told him he could be angry for someone else. Happy or sad or scared, sure, but he’s never been this furious on behalf of another person. “You were supposed to keep him safe, it’s your</i> job.” </p><p>I'm working through some shit. Title is from "Eyes Wide Open" by Gotye.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Glenn Close &amp; Terry Jr. (Dungeons and Daddies), Nicolas Close &amp; Terry Jr., Terry Jr &amp; Henry Oak</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>only a few ever worried</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is uh. incredibly unsubtle if you know what it's about.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Terry Jr. can’t sleep. It’s nothing new; at this point he spends a solid 50% of his nights sitting just outside Walter’s place after everyone else goes to bed. He doesn’t need time to think, he just needs time to <i>be.</i> He likes the other kids fine, but being around them all day every day is exhausting in a way he’s not used to. And especially right now, with all the dads here in a rare moment of rest before moving on to their next anchor, it’s . . . a lot.</p><p>Behind him, he hears a soft click and glances towards the door. Nick stands in front of it, looking slightly startled. “Oh,” he says. “TJ, hey. I was just . . .” he waves his hand vaguely in a gesture that communicates absolutely nothing.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Nick steps closer to TJ, lowers his voice. “Uh. You remember the flowers and shit I told you about? With the Watermice?”</p><p>“The drug ones?”</p><p>“Yeah, those,” Nick nods. “I saw some of the purple ones—the ones that make you float?—in the woods near here, and I just thought . . . like, my dad . . . I was just gonna go grab some of them, like, in case we need it for anything.”</p><p>“That’s . . . stupid as shit, actually.”</p><p>“Hey.” Nick’s shoulders tense up, just barely.</p><p>“Sorry. I didn’t—I’m sorry,” TJ says. He’s trying to find the right words; he really didn’t intend to be mean. “I just meant, there are a ton of people out there that our grandparents paid to try to kidnap us, so maybe going out in the woods to pick flowers in the middle of the night isn’t the best idea.”</p><p>“We might need them for something!” Nick protests. “And—and Glenn . . . we might need them,” he says again. “I just want to do something <i>useful</i>.”</p><p>“Getting kidnapped isn’t useful.”</p><p>“I KNOW!” Nick says, sharply and evidently louder than he meant to. He brings his voice back down to a whisper. “Look, I’m not asking you to come with me, you can do whatever you want, but this is important, and it’s <i>easy</i>, and I’ll be <i>fine</i>. Just . . . don’t be a fuckin narc, okay?”</p><p>He storms off.</p><p>TJ squeezes his eyes shut and opens them again, as if that’ll make the situation disappear. Fuck. Okay. His mom always tells him it’s important to respect his friends’ privacy, but to talk to a trusted adult if they’re gonna hurt themselves or someone else, and Nick is almost definitely going to get hurt if he spends any amount of time in that forest.</p>
<hr/><p>“Hey! Hey, Mr. Close, wake up.” TJ isn’t sure Glenn Close qualifies as “trusted,” but he <i>is</i> an adult, and he’s the only person Nick might possibly listen to.</p><p>“Wha—” he lifts his head up a bit. “What do you need? Isn’t it like, 3 am?” He doesn’t sound annoyed, just sleepy. </p><p>“Nick went to go get some drug flowers, or whatever, but I’m pretty sure there are bounty hunters out there still, and I—”</p><p>“Oh.” Mr. Close lets his head drop back onto his pillow, flings his arm over it. “He’ll be fine, don’t worry about it.”</p><p>“It’s not <i>safe</i>,” TJ says.</p><p>Glenn doesn’t respond.</p>
<hr/><p>Which is how TJ finds himself half-hidden behind a tree, watching Nick 20 feet away angrily tugging up flowers by their roots. His mom didn’t tell him what to do if the trusted adult doesn’t give a shit, so he winged it. Poorly. This was a dumb idea. He’s not even sure what he’s doing here other than . . . keeping an eye on things? Everything seems fine, and he’s starting to think Nick and his dad were right, that he overreacted, that he should have just left it alone entirely. They’re not even that far from Walter’s house anyway, and Nick seems fine aside from being pissed. </p><p>And then. So quickly TJ can’t even place where they came from—behind other trees? Literally out of thin air?—three figures appear near Nick. One of them reaches towards Nick, and he goes for his knife, but within about two seconds flat the figure has Nick’s arms pinned behind his back and fuck, <i>fuck</i> this is bad.</p><p>TJ should do something, but he doesn’t know <i>what</i>, he doesn’t have any weapons or any useful spells and he definitely should have thought of that before following Nick into the woods in the middle of the night. He crouches down to look for a branch or a rock or anything at all he could use, but he can’t find <i>anything</i> and he’s panicking and . . .</p><p>And all three of the bounty hunters, or . . . mystery kidnappers, or whoever the hell they are, are looking directly  at him.</p><p>Shit.</p><p>He sprints. Doesn’t think, just starts running straight back towards Walter’s place and it’s not until he’s halfway there, bounty hunters close behind, that it occurs to him that he should have gone the opposite direction, should have led them <i>away</i> from all the other kids and dads, but it’s too late to change course now. </p><p>He reaches the edge of the forest and realizes he has no plan whatsoever. Still no weapons, still no useful magic. One of the bounty hunters is carrying Nick, who’s trying and failing to kick his way out of the guy’s grip. If TJ can keep the attention of the other two on himself, it might give Nick a better chance to get away, but there’s also zero chance TJ can take them both at once. </p><p>He needs help, and he knows it’s a bad idea to bring these guys closer to his friends, but if he doesn’t, he and Nick are completely screwed. If he can get back to Walter’s, all four of the dads can help, and they might get out of this okay. It’s not far now, and TJ’s a good runner, he just has to play this right—move fast enough that they won’t catch him, but not so fast they give up and take off with just Nick. </p><p>As soon as he can see Walter’s house, he starts yelling. “Hey, Da-hey Ron! Walter! Mr. Wilson!” He’s way too out of breath to yell loud enough, and he’s sure no one actually heard him until Henry Oak steps out onto the porch. “What’s—oh, SHIT! Darryl!”</p><p>And almost immediately, there are far too many things happening for TJ to track any of it. There’s Walter and the dads and the bounty hunters and he’s pretty sure the Oak twins are somewhere in the mix too, and it’s <i>too much</i> and he can’t take it all in and he <i>still</i> can’t do anything to help. </p><p>Focus. He needs to focus. It’s what the not-his-dad vampire guy kept telling him when he taught him magic shit. </p><p>He scans the fight in front of him, and there’s still <i>so much</i> happening, but his eyes land on Nick, toe to toe with one of the bounty hunters and bracing himself to fight. The bounty hunter moves his hands through the air, and TJ doesn’t recognize the specific gesture but he <i>does</i> recognize the kind of intention and focus he sees on the guy’s face. It has to be some kind of spell, and there’s no way it’s anything good. TJ moves towards him.</p><p>Terry Jr is a pretty good soccer player, all things considered. And he plays by the rules. He’s aggressive, but he knows the limits, knows not to push people too hard lest the ref call it a foul for being “careless, reckless, or using excessive force.”</p><p>But there is absolutely no disputing that this world operates on a different set of rules, and TJ isn’t about to lose this match. He goes straight for the guy’s legs in a sliding tackle—carelessly, recklessly, and with excessive force. </p><p>The bounty hunter hits the ground, hard. There’s a flash of light, and then . . . he vanishes. It must have been a teleportation spell, then—one he was definitely trying to drag Nick into. </p><p>TJ is half-sprawled across the ground, his legs still kicked out in front of him, and he realizes it’s gotten quiet. He looks up. The other bounty hunters have also disappeared, and Walter starts ushering people back inside. It feels surreal that it’s over so abruptly. TJ knows it was real, knows he’s not dreaming, but it was so fast that it’s hard to process that something <i>actually happened</i>.</p><p>Nick stands awkwardly a few feet away, cradling his left wrist. As soon as he notices TJ looking, though, he drops both arms to his sides and tries to give a casual grin. </p><p>“You okay?” TJ asks as he stands up. </p><p>“Yep!” he says too quickly. “I’m cool, yeah.”</p><p>Mr. Wilson approaches, looking concerned. “Let me take a look at that, kiddo.”</p><p>“It’s cool, it’s not really a big deal,” Nick protests, but he winces when Mr. Wilson lightly grabs his wrist. </p><p>“You might have sprained it,” Mr. Wilson says. “We should probably wrap it up just in case; I think we have some bandages or a brace around somewhere . . .” Nick shrugs, and the two of them walk back into Walter’s house. </p><p>Glenn appears behind TJ and lays a hand on his shoulder. “Cool move there. Thanks, man.”</p><p>TJ yanks his arm away, whirls around to face Glenn directly. “What the <i>fuck</i> were you thinking?” He’s furious, but the anger isn’t new—it just finally found a shape that’s visible, finally morphed from something heavy in his stomach to something sharp, something active. </p><p>“Sorry?” A half-smirk plays across Glenn’s face. He’s <i>amused</i>, and it makes TJ even angrier. </p><p>“I told you it was dangerous, I <i>told you</i> he was gonna get hurt and you didn’t do anything and he <i>did</i> get hurt and he—you—”</p><p>“Hey, relax, man, it’s fine,” Glenn says. “He just twisted his wrist a bit, nothing to sweat about.”</p><p>“He almost got kidnapped again! He could have gotten hurt—he <i>&gt;did</i> get hurt, and you <i>knew</i>, and you still don’t give a fuck.” TJ isn’t always good at putting words to his feelings, but he’s found the words for this and he’s not about to let them just sit around in his head. “The only reason he wanted to do this in the first place was to get your attention, because he thought you would think it was cool—”</p><p>“It <i>was</i> a pretty sick idea,” Glenn cuts in. “The flowers—”</p><p>“<i>Fuck you</i>,” TJ says. “Nick deserves so much better than you.” No one ever told him he could be angry for someone else. Happy or sad or scared, sure, but he’s never been this furious on behalf of another person. “You were supposed to keep him safe, it’s your <i>job</i>.” </p><p>And TJ realizes he’s not <i>just</i> angry for Nick; he’s angry for himself, too. “Your job, not mine. I shouldn’t have had to be out here, I shouldn’t have had to trip that guy, this shouldn’t have even been a situation in the first place and it <i>wouldn’t</i> have been if you actually made the slightest effort to be a fucking father.” His face is hot, tears threaten to slip down his cheeks, and he’s staring down Glenn like he wants to set him on fire with his glare. </p><p>“I . . .” Glenn looks taken aback, and TJ thinks there’s a chance he actually got through to him. He’s not treating it like a joke anymore, at least. He blinks a few times, shakes his head. “I need a minute. I’m just gonna . . .” he doesn’t finish his sentence, just shrugs lightly and walks off. No apology, and wherever he’s going, he’s moving <i>away</i> from his son. </p><p>TJ watches him go, and says nothing. He sinks back down to the ground, and he’s not sure how long he sits there, staring up at the sky again. Yelling at Glenn should have brought some kind of release, but he doesn’t feel better, just different. Heavy and sick and <i>sad</i>, but not a sadness he’s used to. He doesn’t know how to describe it, but it makes him almost wish that Glenn would come back, just so he could scream again instead of having to sit with this.</p><p>He wants somewhere to put it all, this anger and sadness and this other <i>thing</i> that he doesn’t have a name for but has been carrying at least since they got to the Forgotten Realms, maybe longer. It isn’t exactly a weight on his shoulders, but something he carries in his chest, something that keeps trying to dip down into his stomach and threatens to shatter some part of him if he lets it drop too fast. He doesn’t want it, and it shouldn’t be his to hold, but he can’t get rid of it.</p><p>Back when Ron first came to find him, after they killed the not-his-dad vampire and they had that whole . . . bonding moment, or whatever, at the top of the tower . . . it was nice to finally break down for a minute, nice to be safe enough to fall apart.</p><p>But it didn’t take him long to figure out that despite the good intentions, none of the people here knew how to pick him back up again, how to help him pull it all together so he could stand up and keep moving. So he did it himself, and he’s pissed that no one helped him even if maybe it’s not their fault they don’t know how, and he’s scared of what will happen if he falls apart like that again, and he’s <i>tired</i>. He’s so tired of trying to be strong enough for this, and for a second he thought he wouldn’t have to be, but he was wrong. </p><p>Eventually, Mr. Oak comes back outside. “Do you know where Glenn went off to?” He asks.</p><p>TJ shrugs.</p><p>“Are you doing okay?”</p><p>He shrugs again. Mr. Oak sighs and sits down beside him. “I overheard some of what you said. It sounds really tough. I just want to let you know that if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here. I don’t want to put it all on you, so I won’t get into it, but I’ve had my own struggles with anger and with feeling unheard, and I know how hard that can be and I just . . . I don’t want you to feel like you have to handle it all on your own.” </p><p>TJ wants so badly to just believe him. He wants to accept that there’s an adult who’s here for him, who <i>gets it</i>, who will listen. But he needs more from Mr. Oak than just empathy. “I’m mad at you, too,” he mumbles. </p><p>“Oh.” He sounds surprised. “Thank you for sharing that.” There’s a slight pause before he continues. “You know, it takes a lot to be able to express that, and to be able to communicate your feelings, especially more negative—well, I don’t want to say negative because I don’t want to place a, you know, a sort of value statement on your emotions, but it can be hard to tell someone that they hurt you, and that’s really important. And I want to make sure that I’m creating an environment where you feel safe that you can tell me that, and that we can work through what’s going on—”</p><p>And God, it would be so easy to let him keep rambling forever and avoid having to <i>actually</i> talk about any of it. TJ <i>wanted</i> to yell at Glenn, wanted to throw all of that anger right in his face and make him see how badly he’d fucked up, but <i>this</i> conversation isn’t one he wants to have. He can’t un-say that he’s angry, but he has another out now: he can let Mr. Oak filibuster and nod along and pretend this is the end of it. But if he doesn’t say this now, it’ll just sit in his chest forever and become yet another thing he has to carry. </p><p>“Henry. Stop talking.” He should apologize for being so rude and abrupt, but if he doesn’t keep going he’ll lose track of all the things he really needs to say. “I’m mad because you should have done something way, way before now—I know you didn’t know about this thing with the flowers but you <i>know</i> what Glenn is like and you just . . . let him do all this? Or . .  not do all this, or . . . AGGH.” It’s so frustrating trying to find the words for this, and even more so that he needs to do it in the first place. “Why did I have to wake him up in the middle of the night to tell him he shouldn’t let his kid sneak out and steal drugs? Why was that on <i>me</i>?</p><p>“I’m just a kid and he didn’t listen to me but you’re his  friend, why didn’t you call him out before?” As much as TJ didn’t want to be having this conversation, it’s hard now to keep more and more thoughts from tumbling out. “Or-or maybe you tried and it didn’t work but it’s not something you say one time and then when he doesn’t listen you shrug and go ‘oh well, I tried!’ You have to<i> keep</i> trying, or you have to try something different, or you just . . . you have to do <i>something</i> so this doesn’t happen. I know you’re not Nick’s dad but you’re <i>a</i> dad and you’re an adult and you should have done something to protect him.” He feels out of breath from saying it all and he’s pretty sure he never wants to explain why he’s mad ever again because this is <i>exhausting.</i></p><p>“I’m sorry.” Henry says. TJ’s pretty sure it’s the shortest sentence he’s spoken in his life. </p><p>“I know.” TJ can’t find the right words to express that he can’t listen to him apologize right now, because if he lets Henry say the words, then it’ll be his responsibility. It’ll be his job to choose what to do with that and to decide if he forgives him or not and he just <i>can’t</i> do that right now. “I know, I believe you. But I just . . . I can’t . . . can you please just go away?” His voice sounds thick, and dangerously close to wobbly and tearful, and he can’t tell if that’s better or worse than the unintentional sharpness from before. </p><p>“Okay,” Mr. Oak nods, and he seems to be trying very hard to keep it together. “Okay, yep, you need some space to process and I want to respect that and . . . I’ll be inside. Yeah. Um. Goodnight.”</p><p>He leaves.</p><p>And TJ cries.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>actually you know what fuck it, I don't have to be cryptic (ha) about this; I'll just come right out and say it: this whole thing is just me venting my anger at the cast for the ways they've repeatedly put minors in their spaces in danger. it's an allegory for Anthony being a negligent asshole. you can read my twitter thread about it if you want but basically fuck them.</p><p>https://twitter.com/crypticjoy/status/1310706676383854592</p></blockquote></div></div>
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